Happy Accidents
by Abarero
Summary: After injuring himself in the most ridiculous of ways, America is laid up in the hospital during WWII. While there, he's visited by the other allies and a rather reluctant England. America/England.
1. In which China has happy pandas

**Author's Notes:** A continuation of sorts for the beginning strip of Main Chapter 5: Lietuvis in which America trips and falls (bashing his head and injuring his leg) in excitement over ice cream. Also, this is being written for the usxuk community's Spring Fever Ficathon and the prompt "_Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own._- Robert Heimlein"

Also, this is chapter 1 of 3!

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**Happy Accidents**  
_[Chapter 1: In which America sulks, England sulks, China has happy pandas and France is a pervert.]_

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England had to be furious with him. It was the middle of a war and here he was laid up in a hospital bed because of _ice cream_. And America was pretty sure noting he had slipped _accidentally_ on a _banana peel_ wouldn't count as a valid excuse.

He pouted, easily picturing England's ranting to the others about how incompetent he was.

"Do you need to rest, aru?" America started at the voice, momentarily forgetting that China was in the room. The Asian country shook his head at America's baffled look. "I'll leave your candy here, aru. Get well soon, America."

"Thanks, China!"

He pushed himself up from the chair and walked over to the door, throwing one last smile over his shoulder as he stepped out into the hallway.

America smacked himself in the forehead, then groaned in pain having hit his injury there.

_Jeez, I need to be better to our fellow allies. These years of isolationism have made me a bit rusty._

China hadn't been the first to visit, Russia had swung by earlier and America was certain he was reveling in seeing the powerful North American country even just slightly weakened. That…had been an unnerving situation that America wasn't sure he'd handled all that well. He sighed and rubbed his temples as best he could around the bandages there.

_Think positive. I'm an awesome hero and there's no way I could have screwed everything up!_ He clutched his fist in self-reassurance. _Yeah. It's not like I had to have Russia removed by the hospital staff like I did France._

Grimacing, America shuddered at the memory of France's offer to play nurse maid, complete with a nurse's outfit. Sometimes, he felt that France was a little _too_ friendly.

This, of course, left only one of four countries who hadn't visited. And as much as America hated to admit it, even to himself, but that was the reason he was spacing out when China was trying to fill him in on the current situation with Japan.

_Damnit, England… Can't you at least drop by and tell me how stupid I am?_

China had only taken two steps outside the door before he came to a halt beside the country leaning to the side of the doorframe.

"You can go in now, aru."

"W-what?" England spluttered, his face going scarlet as he met China's eyes.

"Visiting America, aru. Looks like you brought something to brighten his mood."

England cast a quick glance down to the bag hanging off his arm before clearing his throat. "This is nothing of the sort. It's just my lunch. Plus, that idiot probably needs to rest. I'll just inform him on what he's missing on the battle front later."

China had to resist rolling his eyes. Ever since he'd allied with America and England in the war, he'd noticed their terrible habit of acting like aloof and unruly children around each other. The older country sighed and leveled England with a serious look.

"He's quite in need of cheering up, aru. He sulked the entire time I was there. Most likely upset that everyone but you have visited him. You aren't still mad at him, are you, aru?"

The Briton huffed, "I'm _frustrated_ at the _situation_. It would be right daft of me to be mad at him for an accident." He paused. "Even if it was his own bloody fault for acting so ridiculous over a mere tub of ice cream. It's not like he'll want to see me anyways."

"Go visit him, aru," China said, patting the other country on the shoulder. "As the saying goes: Do not anxiously expect what is not yet come; do not vainly regret what is already past, aru."

And leaving England to try and decipher the meaning of that, China gave a smile and a wave and walked down the hallway to the exit.

Clutching the bag that had a chocolate bar and a tub of ice cream in it _for America_, England fumed. "What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

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Inside his room, America perked up a bit upon hearing voices outside his door. He could have _sworn_ one of the two was British, and he leaned a bit up in his bed trying to listen in.

"Is that you England?" He called out when the conversation between the two voices seemed to trail off. The moment the words were out of his mouth, he cursed inwardly. _Yeah right. England's still mad at me, I'm sure. If it is him, he's out there telling everyone else that they shouldn't dote on such an idiotic country. _

Dejectedly, America slouched back onto his pillows and glared at the wall. Just thinking about England had put him in a sour mood again. Next to him, a medium sized plush panda that China had given him toppled off the nightstand and into America's shoulder. He started at the sudden contact and then smiled down at the dopey looking thing.

Lifting it up and regarding it, he remarked, "Panda of happiness, huh? I could use some of that right about now."

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England had started at what he thought was America calling out to him; but with a scowl and a blush, he resolutely stayed where he was outside the room.

_I-I'm just imagining things. There's no way he'd want to see me. Hell, he's probably glad I haven't visited._ He looked down at the tub of ice cream, which was starting to perspire. It would melt soon. England huffed. _Ungrateful brat would just accuse me of doting on him or infringing on his blasted freedom._

Just about to turn and storm away, unbidden memories of his tumultuous past with America prickling at his mind, England stopped mid-step as another figure blocked his path.

"Aha, what is this? You bringing him gifts?"

"Shut it, France," England shot back, his eyes narrowing.

The other country just shook his head. "Look, I know you've been pathetically pining after him since the-"

France was cut off as England shoved him hard in the chest, a blush rising to his cheeks. "I said to belt up. It's nothing like that and you know it."

He shrugged, a lazy finger pointed at England's face. "Your expression betrays you."

Scowling and turning away, England snapped back. "Just go away, will you?"

A devious grin spread across France's face, and he leaned a bit closer to the shorter country. "Well, if you're not going to visit him, then perhaps I could offer some..._services_ to our attractive, bedridden, hero."

"You are revolting," England sneered, wanting more than anything to slap that lecherous smirk off France's face. He didn't even want to think about what the pervert had in mind for America.

"Ah, but he must be so _lonely._ And hospital rooms get _so cold_ at night..."

"Don'.Dare," the Briton hissed out through gritted teeth. It was taking all his restraint to keep from throttling France right then and there.

France raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Are you going to stop me?"

England stood to his full height, cockily grinning as he delivered his retort. "I am going in there _right now_ and if I have to stay there _all night_ to ensure you don't lay a finger on him, then by God, I will France. You know I will!"

And before the Frenchman could even remotely react, England turned on his heel and purposefully strode into America's room, the door slamming behind him.

France chuckled, turning to go back down the hall to flirt with the nurses. He muttered to himself as he went, "Oh my, someone's just a _bit_ over protective."

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It wasn't clear who was more surprised by England's sudden entrance into the room. America was frozen, blue eyes wide, halfway through the motion of placing the stuffed panada back on his nightstand. England managed to look simultaneously outraged and embarrassed as his eyes met America's.

"Um...hi?" America tentatively said. England's blush and ire both rose at the innocent comment.

"I'm just here because that pervert France was threatening to...to...well, be himself. On you specifically."

America tried not to smile too much, having a feeling that it would only anger England further to do so. "Oh. Okay."

Settling back against his pillows, he watched as England stomped over to the bedside and thrust a rumpled bag into his hands.

"And because that imbecile held me up, my ice cream is melted and I no longer want it. Since you get so bloody excited over it in any form, you can have it."

Unable to hold it back this time, America's eyes lit up and smile crept onto his face. "Really? Wow, that's so nice of you England!"

England blushed and crossed his arms. "Just don't want it going to waste."

America had already fished the spoon out of the bag and was digging into the ice cream. He had the decency to look a bit ashamed, knowing that England was probably still miffed about the ice cream related incident that put him in this bed in the first place. But as he tasted the first bite, he sighed in pure bliss. "Oh this is so good. Best thing to happen all day."

"Well," England muttered, the tension in his expression starting to ease away. "Glad someone's happy."

"So um..." America mumbled around a spoonful, "You staying for awhile?"

England's eyes darted to the bedside chair and with an overdramatic huff, he sat down. "I suppose I don't have much of a choice. France will be on you the moment I let my guard down."

"Ice cream _and_ protecting my virtue? Oh England, you're my hero!" America teased.

Rolling his eyes, England grouchily looked away, a furious blush creeping across his cheeks. "Oh hush up. I'm only doing this because it is in the best interests of our cause if you are healthy and whole."

America laughed. Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, he replied. "Glad to know my _wholesomeness_ is such a high priority for you."

"Oh for heaven's sake, you know what I mean!" England snapped, flush deepening.

Heaving another large spoonful into his mouth, America mumbled a quiet query. "Um...you're not still mad at me, are you?"

"I'm _frustrated_ at the _situation_," he echoed his earlier comment to China. But when America's pout intensified, he quickly changed his tune. "Look. Considering all our losses, a mild concussion and a broken ankle is not too bad. And knowing you, you'll be back to your obnoxious self in no time. I mean, it doesn't hurt much anymore does it?"

America blinked, a timid smile on his lips. "So you _are_ worried."

"W-what? No...I..." England glanced away, flustered again. "I am just concerned, like I would be for any of our allies. That's all."

The two fell silent for a moment, England stodgily sitting with his arms tightly crossed and America secretly smiling to himself over England's worry for him. Finally, he spoke up.

"Hey...England?"

"...What?"

"Here." A spoon prodded into England's cheek. "It wasn't all melted."

England opened his mouth to protest and America shoved the spoon in, smiling innocently as the Briton glared, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"Good, isn't it?"

He cleared his throat. "Yes. I suppose."

Popping the spoon back into his own mouth, America slowly licked what remained off of it. England went scarlet. About to ask what his problem was, America froze with the spoon halfway out of his mouth and his eyes glued on England's still slightly moist lips.

_Shit. Did I just...damnit._

His face flushed as he finally realized the extent of his completely unintentional flirting. Tearing his gaze away from England's mouth, he stared at the opposite wall.

Racking his mind for something- anything- to say to end this awkward silence, America found that for once, he didn't have a single snarky remark. If the situation wasn't already awkward, that made it so tenfold.

England also remained quiet, partially stunned not only by America's behavior by also by the other country's current reaction. But when the expected taunt never came, he couldn't stand it any more and spoke up.

"Um...nice panda."

"Huh?" America asked, head whipping back around. It finally dawned on him after a moment and he exclaimed. "Oh yeah! That panda. China just gave it to me. Said it brings happiness."

"Ah."

"Which means it clearly doesn't work because right after he gave it to me, you showed up," America remarked, his snark coming back to him finally.

England didn't miss a beat and quipped back, "Oh clearly. It's even spreading its misfortune to me. I have many _important_ things I _could_ be attending to, but no- I'm stuck here watching over you."

America mock sighed in irritation. "Ah man, you're going to be here all night aren't you?"

"Unless you'd rather France drop in."

He shuddered. "Lesser of two evils. Guess I'm stuck with you."

"Appalling state of affairs for us both."

"Yeah. Maybe it's an unhappy panda by mistake?" America asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"It can't bring happiness, that's for certain. I mean, I'm absolutely miserable right now," England said unconvincingly.

America grinned. "Me too! Worst day of my life!"

England raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Really now?"

"Weeeellll…okay, not _the_ worst, but definitely up there."

The two looked at each other, both failing spectacularly at pretending to be unhappy by this point. Simultaneously, they burst into laughter.

"You…are so…unconvincing," America managed between gasps of air.

England shook his head. "Like you're one to talk Mr. Worst-Day-Of-My-Life."

"We've so got to tell China his panda is evil though. His face would be _priceless_." He smirked.

"You're so immature, America," England chided him.

"Oh shut up. You're the one who keeps doing voodoo spells on Germany." America gestured toward England with a finger.

"Black magic is not voodoo!" He huffed in response.

"Whatever. You are helping me convince China the panda is possessed with an evil spirit. Or are you too scared of China's wrath?"

"Hardly," England sighed. "Fine. But only because you're so bloody pathetic and injured."

"Yes!" America pumped a fist into the air. "This is going to be awesome!" He grinned, then paused as a thought crossed his mind. Turning to England excitedly he said, "Oh yeah! Hey England?"

"Hmmm?"

"I gotta tell you about this dumb thing France tried earlier. I had to call in the nurses and the hospital staff and _everything_!"

England rolled his eyes, leaning back in the chair and relaxing his arms. "Why am I not surprised. Dare I ask what he did this time?"

And as America recounted the tale, a short black-haired country listened from outside the door. Smiling a bit to himself and munching on the candy he'd brought in case England hadn't visited, China knew there was no way now that they'd convince him his pandas brought anything _but_ happiness.

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	2. In which France wears a dress

**Happy Accidents: Chapter 2**  
_[Chapter 2: In which France dons drag, America and England get too close for comfort and China thinks they're all nuts.__]_

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There was some sort of commotion out in the hallway; voices shouting and running feet, that had woken him up. Blearily blinking the sleep from his eyes, America almost jumped out of his bed on finding England inches from his face.

_E-England?_

Heart hammering in his chest and face flushing, he slowly took in the situation.

He was lying on his left side, his foot still heavy with its cast, and he had curled towards the warm depression on the left side of the bed. This was England. America remembered now how the stodgy Brit had adamantly refused to leave for fear that France would follow through on his threat. And as much as he'd vowed to stand guard, it appeared sleep had gotten the better of him; his head pillowed atop crossed arms as he leaned over from the bedside chair.

_So much for defending my virtue,_ America thought to himself with a smile. His eyes noticed the slight tremor of England's shoulders and the chill of the room registered to America as well. Clutching his own sheet up around him, he glanced around. With a sigh, he slowly sat forward and reached down to where an extra sheet rested at the foot of his bed. He draped it haphazardly over England's shoulders, a blush rising to his cheeks that he quickly shook off. He was just being nice, that was all.

_Damnit England. And you have the nerve to call me an idiot. At least I'm not falling asleep on the job._

America settled back down against his pillows, once again rolling to face England. Absently, he watched as the rise and fall of his shoulders evened out; pleased to see his shivering had ebbed.

_When did you get like this, England? The protector needing my help? Heh. I guess a lot has changed since back then, for me and for you_

And roughly patting England's tousled hair, he mumbled, "'Night, you sad excuse for a guard."

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America was having a pleasant dream. He, the great hero, was sweeping in and rescuing England from the evil Axis Powers as the other Allied Forces cheered him on.

Then, they were holding a victory party in his honor and declaring America "Hero of the Free World." England had approached then to give thanks.

"You saved me," he'd said, warmly clasping his hand. "Thank you."

"Ha ha! It's no problem for me- the great hero!" America replied, brimming with confidence.

"Ah, but I want to give you something…" Dream-England had murmured. "Won't you come closer?"

And before America could register it, the warm arms were drawing him in and he felt the heat of his breath on his face and England was about to…

America bolted awake, his mind and heart both racing. _Just a dream. Just a dream,_ he tried to tell himself.

But that's when he felt very real, solid, not dream-arms curled around his waist and warm breath tickling the back of his neck.

"E-England?"

"Ah, no. I'm _much_ better than that," a very _French_ voice replied.

America yanked himself free, toppling into the sleeping form of England in the chair and knocking him to the floor as well.

"America, what the…"

"France, get the hell out of my bed!"

At the other country's name, England woke up at once.

"Bloody hell, France! What the hell is your problem?!" He berated.

"My my, is this the thanks I get for my _hard_ work?" France intoned, lounging seductively atop the bed. Both of them stared, France's odd attire now glaringly apparent.

"France…are you…" America gaped, still sprawled on the floor.

France winked. "Like what you see? It was the only way in after you had the staff throw me out, mon chéri. Plus, I figured a nurse might be just what the doctor ordered, no?"

England fumed, storming over to the bed and grabbing France by the collar. "Out. Now. And return that nurse's uniform to where it came from."

"Ah, I see someone is jealous I got in America's bed before they--"

"_,_" the Briton bellowed, his face going scarlet.

Pulling him up by the collar ("Watch my hat, you uncouth Brit!"), England hauled him to the door and pushed him out.

France straightened his tiny white cap and smoothed down his dress as he stood. Leaning as close as he dared, the Frenchman whispered, "Do you want to know a secret, England?"

"Nothing you say is going to--"

"America said _your_ name when he noticed _someone_ in his bed. Perhaps your love sick pining has finally paid off, hmm?"

England slammed the door in his face, not about to let him taunt him about everything that had happened since 1776 yet again.

"Lying bastard," he grumbled, storming back into the room.

"Oww."

The quiet murmur caught his attention right away, his scowl slipping off his face as he noticed the pathetic figure of America. He was in an awkward position on the floor, half tangled in a sheet and rubbing his forehead.

England sighed, walking over and looping an arm under America's legs.

"What are you…"

"Well, if you'd rather sleep on the floor…"

"Oh. No." America's eyes darted to where England's arm was under his knees. "But can you…" He cut himself off as England easily lifted him up and placed him gently into the bed.

Unbidden, a sentimental smile crept onto his lips; it had been so long since England had picked him up like this.

"W-what?" England snapped, noticing his expression.

America's dopey grin didn't waver. "You're pretty strong, England."

He flushed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

With a shrug, the younger country settled back into his pillows. "I'd just forgotten. That's all."

"O-Oh."

An awkward silence threatened to descend, but America wasn't finished yet.

"I mean, lately it's just been all 'America, send me supplies! America, come save me!' And then France gets in my bed because you fell asleep on the job and…"

"Shut up," England snapped. "Don't act like I'm some pathetic weakling."

"Well, you are really small so…"

England's eyebrows furrowed and he sharply turned his back on America. "Fine. If you're such a big, strong, country- then you can damned well take care of yourself."

And before America could say another word, England had stormed out of the door and slammed it with a resounding 'thud' behind him.

America blinked. "England?" He asked in a tiny voice. No reply. The smile dropped off his face. He'd said too much again.

Sulkily, he shifted on his bed in an attempt to get comfortable. With a huff, he finally flopped on his side, facing the now-empty chair.

_Why does this keep happening to us? I try to compliment him, let him know there's no hard feelings about stuff and before I know it- I've blurted out something that offends him._

Feeling very lonely and cold, America snatched up the panda from his nightstand and curled up with it.

_Damnit England…_

And with one last fleeting glimpse at the door, America resigned himself to a restless sleep.

"Aiyah! Please don't tell me you slept out here, aru."

England started awake at China's voice, groggily glaring up from where he was slumped on the floor against the door.

"Oh good. It's just you," he mumbled. "What time is it?"

"It's dawn, aru. The sun just started to rise. Is there a reason you slept outside America's room, aru?" China asked, raising his eyebrow quizzically.

"France," England answered simply.

"France explains why you're _here_, aru, but not why you're on the floor _outside_."

The Briton stretched, his muscles aching due to his odd sleeping position. Getting to his feet, he brushed off his uniform. "I should probably go straighten myself up."

"A cold shower might be in order, aru," China suggested.

England's eyes went wide, flickering down to check himself before spluttering a reply. "Wh-what?"

China resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "To wake you up, aru." He held back a chuckle, but had to add. "Unless there is another reason you would need to…"

"No!" England interjected, just a tad too forcefully. "J-Just stay here and make sure France doesn't cause any trouble."

And before China could reply, England had darted off down the hallway.

_As if there was a way to be more transparent, aru._ Absently rubbing his cheek, a smudge of lipstick still there from an oddly familiar looking nurse that had accosted him that morning, China sighed. Adding onto the hectic morning he'd been having, he now had a sinking feeling that "nurse" was France.

_Crazy, aru! Like teenagers. All of them, aru!_

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England was really hoping China could hold his own for awhile at the hospital. He wasn't sure _how_ the Asian country did it, but he was always unnervingly perceptive. England chalked it up to his age, figuring China's youthful face and laid back attitude were hiding a profound inner wisdom.

_At least I hope that's what it is,_ he thought as he dried off after his cold shower. _Because otherwise, he's reading my blasted thoughts._

The European country had racked his mind throughout his entire shower, trying to figure out how China could have known he was having _that_ type of dream about America. He'd come to two conclusions- either China could read minds or he was just messing with England's head. Neither of these options boded well.

It wasn't as if he'd never thought about America in that light before, but lately the thoughts were becoming more and more frequent. England cursed under his breath as he pulled on a fresh uniform.

_It's just some symbolic mumbo jumbo because he's helping me out with these wars. Nothing else to it._

But at the memory of holding America briefly, as he'd placed him back in bed the night before surfaced in his mind; England blushed. It was getting harder to fool himself, let alone anyone else.

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America was really horrible at Mahjong, but it kept his mind off England during the afternoon and that was good. He wasn't sure _why_ his mind kept lingering on the irritating Brit, but he had a feeling that China's not-so-subtle comment was behind it.

_He did stay,_ a little voice kept echoing inside America's mind. _He slept outside my door all night. He wouldn't do that if he hated me._

"Kong, aru," China's voice interrupted his thoughts as he laid four identical tiles down in his corner.

America flushed. He'd completely lost track of the game again. This had already happened several times since they'd started the game around noon. "Uh…"

China smiled, picking a new tile from the Wall and discarding an unwanted tile. "Just play your turn, aru."

"Oh right." America looked at his tiles and then across to China, who was currently beating him with all three hands he was playing simultaneously.

"Sheung," he said uncertainly as he put down a run of three tiles and tossed out a fourth.

China was giving him an all too knowing look and he knew it had nothing to do with the game. Laughing nervously, he searched around for a quick subject to bring up.

"So China, about that panda you gave me… I think it's possessed with an evil spirit. You see, right after you gave it to me, I got stuck dealing with England the rest of the day."

"Aiyah." Sighing, the older nation rubbed his temples. He had a feeling this would be brought up. "That just means it worked, aru."

America grinned, shifting a bit against his pillows. "Nuh-uh. Made my day _horrible_, not happy."

"Really, aru? Since when does getting chocolate make you unhappy, aru?"

His eyes followed China's gaze to the chocolate bar on his nightstand. America grimaced. It had been in the bag of ice cream England had given to him. He'd told America he wasn't fond of chocolate and that the guy at the store had thrown it in with the ice cream when they were all out of the peace babies candy England had wanted.

"Well, I haven't eaten that candy bar because…"

"If you try and convince me you suddenly don't want chocolate, aru, then I really am worried about your head injury," China said seriously.

America gave a sheepish grin. "I can't fool you, can I China?"

"You're four thousand years too young to try and fool me, aru," China replied with a smile.

A quiet knock interrupted them then and China got up to let the visitor in. It was, of course, England.

"I thought I should check in and make sure that France hasn't been a nuisance," he said to China, completely avoiding America's gaze.

But America wasn't about to let him leave before he got his say.

"Hey England, how's the floor outside my room? Comfy place to sleep?"

England went bright red, his head whipping around to glare at America.

"Well, if you weren't making fun of how _weak_ I am, then perhaps I wouldn't have to sleep in such undignified places!"

China felt another headache coming on, and quietly edged towards the door. If these two were going to start yelling at each other over such inane things, then he'd rather not be around for it.

"I wasn't making fun of that! I was trying to tell you you're strong!" America blurted out, instantly regretting the truthful words that had slipped out.

Silence fell thickly on the room, neither America nor England noticing China's absence. Finally, England spoke up.

"Well. You have a funny way of showing it," he muttered, tentatively taking a few steps towards the bed.

America sat up in bed and retorted, "Yeah, well so do you! I come over here to help you out and if you aren't yelling at me, you're sticking me on the sidelines. I know you hate me, England, but …"

"I don't _hate_ you."

England's words were so quiet, America wasn't even sure he'd heard them. "What did you say?"

"Idiot," England muttered. "I don't _hate_ you, okay?"

Blue eyes went wide. "O-Oh." America swallowed, completely taken aback by the Briton's sudden admittance. He glanced up at him, noticing the hurt expression on his face. Everything between them in the past, it was still nagging at them both.

Taking a deep breath, America replied, "Good, 'cause I don't _hate_ you either."

England's head snapped up, his eyes wide and his expression almost startled by the sudden words. "R-Really?"

"Really," the younger country mumbled. He wasn't about to ask if England could tolerate him or even liked him, but not-hating him was a start.

The Briton had shifted his gaze to the game board, and almost casually he said, "If you take that tile, you have Mahjong."

America blinked down at the tiles. "Huh?"

"The game. If you take that, you'll win."

"Oh." He paused a moment before grinning up at England. "Thanks."

England blushed. "N-No problem."

A rapid knock on the door and China's voice outside snapped them to attention as the door swung open and a tall red haired nurse sauntered in with a cart carrying a tray.

"Dinner, sweetheart!" She chirpily called out.

China trailed behind her, obviously having tried to get her to leave the cart with him and just now shrugging and giving up as a lost cause. The lady was determined to deliver this tray herself.

Keeping her head bent low, she rolled the cart up to America's bedside and reached out to pat his shoulder. "Can't have you getting weak now, can we?"

England's eyes narrowed at the odd voice and he walked around the bed to stand beside the nurse.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," he said sharply. "You can go now."

The nurse let out a twitter of a laugh. "Oh you're the one who slept outside his door last night, aren't you?"

Spluttering, England reached out to grab her shoulder. She tilted her head up at the contact, the chin full of stubble now clearly visible to all.

"France!" England shouted as China let out an exasperated "Aiyah!"

America just laughed, drawing the attention of all three of the others to him. "F-France. You look…" He gasped for air. "...so stupid…" He snorted. "…as a red-head."

China and England seemed to take this into consideration before both of them started to chuckle as well.

"He's quite right, you know," England chortled.

China smirked. "It really isn't your color, aru."

France just grinned, and with a shrug he reached up and pulled off his wig. "Ah well. At least now that my disguise is blown I can take that horrid thing off."

This sent America into another fit of laughter, while France tried to smooth down his real hair. Once he calmed back down, he gestured France over.

"Look, France. As long as you keep your hands to yourself, you can stay and play a few games. It'll be nice to not be the only one losing to China."

"Need someone to keep you warm tonight too, hmm?" France dared.

America leveled him with a serious look. "No. You'd better leave once the sun goes down. I might have to call in the police if you stay after hours."

Shrugging, France snatched up a chair from by the wall and dragged it over to the table set up with the game board. "Ah, well. If you do insist."

"He does." Both England and China cut in.

France smirked. "You know, half the fun is the challenge of not being caught."

England slammed another chair down next to France, glaring at him. "Oh just shut up and play the game, will you?"

China shook his head, wiping the board clear of the previous game and beginning to set up a new one. It was going to be a long night yet again.

----------------------------------------------

England had insisted, absolutely insisted, that he stay that night and ensure that France didn't try anything yet again. America was about to protest, but after they discovered that the food France had rolled in on the tray had been laced with some sleeping pills, none of them were quite sure what else the Frenchman had in store. China had opted to sleep in a chair down the hallway, in hopes he could catch France on his way in; and England had adamantly declared that he would take it upon himself to stay with America in his room.

America was oddly touched by this, but withheld another quip about England protecting his virtue. The last thing he wanted was to drive England from his room yet again over something stupid.

England had just finished tidying things up in the room, turning off the main light and walking over to the bed. He hesitated right beside the chair.

"Look. I'm not _that_ mad about you falling asleep last night," America said tentatively. Things had gone pretty well that afternoon, the four of them all playing Mahjong and losing horribly to China every time. When England didn't respond, America wheedled him a bit. "Don't act like you have to be all _gallant_ and go without sleep or something. Jeez, England."

Green eyes flickered up to meet his, a determined expression set onto his face. "America…"

"Y-yeah?"

"In the interest of preventing another incident like last night from happening, I…"

America's eyes lit up as a great idea dawned upon him. Before England could say another word, he reached up and tugged the smaller country into the bed with him.

"A-America, what are you doing?!" He sputtered, his face the brightest of reds.

"If you sleep right here next to me then there's no way France can get in my bed without one of us noticing. That way you can sleep too!"

He said it so innocently, so obliviously, that England almost wanted to slap him for that alone. Instead he just feebly shoved at his shoulder.

"There is no way in hell that I would…"

"Come on, England. Please? Think of my virtue!" America said, turning on the puppy dog eyes that England knew all too well from when he was a child. And much like back then, he couldn't bring himself to deny him.

"Ugh. Fine." He settled down awkwardly next to America, shoving the other country a bit away as he did so. "But only because France is probably sneaking in through the window at this very moment. He has some strange affection for weakened countries over others. Bloody pervert."

America grinned, reaching down and clasping England's hand. "Great! It'll be like old times when I couldn't sleep because those stupid ghost stories you told me."

England flushed at the contact, but let his hand linger. "I still don't know why such simple children's tales are so frightening."

"'Cause they are!" America exclaimed. "Weirdoes like you just don't get how creepy they are!"

The two fell silent; both realizing just how uncomfortable a situation they'd gotten themselves into. It was as if their past was hanging like a dark storm cloud over their heads and they couldn't just move past it. And, America noted nervously as he felt England's hand still clutched in his, then there was all the _new_ issues that had arisen over the years just to make everything even worse.

But England _didn't_ hate him, he was willing to give up his rest just to make sure France didn't do something to him in his sleep and, America thought with a smile tugging at his lips, England still hadn't jerked his hand away.

"'Night, England," he murmured.

England's hand twitched, but he didn't pull away. "Oh. Goodnight, America."

And with a smile and a quick look at the panda watching over them, America closed his eyes and drifted off into a peaceful sleep. England glanced over at him, a bit surprised at the abruptness of America's actions. But as America started to snore lightly, England had to allow himself a small smile as well. Perhaps things between them weren't exactly smooth, but at least they were slowly getting better.


	3. In which America is a hero

_Notes_: Sorry for the super-long-delay on this. Hopefully the 4th and final part will be finished soon.

* * *

**Happy Accidents: Chapter 3**

_[Chapter 3: In which America is a hero who stands on his injured ankle, France drops in (literally) and Russia makes a visit]_

* * *

Several days had gone by, each night passing in roughly the same fashion. Some nights, they'd say nothing as they lie side by side. Other nights, America would prattle on for hours about how he missed some "awesome American radio show" and how he wanted to show England his new plane designs. But there had developed a mutual, albeit silent, understanding between them. Because just as sure as every night England would hesitate to even _sit_ on the edge of the bed, America would always just quietly scoot over and pat the mattress- no taunts, no jibes, just a timid encouraging smile on his face.

There was _something_ changing between them, a something neither of them dared even attempt to define; both just so thankful to be getting along as friends for the time being. And even if America didn't quite realize that clutching England's hand tightly might _mean_ something, or that England still made a pointed note that he was only doing this to protect America from France and was always gone by morning, there was still no denying the fact that their relationship was changing, somehow.

But this morning, America had woken up just in time to see England reaching for the doorknob.

"Hey, England!"

He started at the voice, green eyes flickering over his shoulder and a scowl appearing on his face. America tried to repress a grin on noticing that England's scowl had only just appeared, replacing an almost wistful smile that had been there moments before.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to be released today, right?"

England cleared his throat, crossing his arms as he turned to face America. "Well, it depends on a lot of factors but…"

"But if I'm all awesomely healed up, I can go right?" He nodded silently and America reached down to rub at his now cast-free leg that was wrapped in cloth bandages. He definitely felt ready to go. "Can you promise me something then?"

England's expression softened, ever so slightly, and America wondered when he'd begun to notice these things. "It depends."

"Once I'm outta here, and you think I'm feeling well enough for it, I wanna show you my awesome plane."

The Briton rolled his eyes. "I've seen your plane, America."

"Well, you haven't been in any plane until you've been in my A-24!" America elucidated, his eyes lighting up as he spoke. "It's a two-seater, so you've gotta come up in it with me. The slotted dive brakes on it are the best!"

Unbidden, a smile crept onto England's face. "Really now?"

America sat up, gently swinging his legs over the edge of his bed as he pointed a finger right at England. "You have to promise me you'll come. It'll be just you, me and my plane, all alone with the sky!"

England's face blossomed red at America's choice of words, but he brushed it aside. _He doesn't mean it that way. He's just unaware that interested- not that I'm interested- parties might take it that way._

"All right. I promise I'll come," he replied, feeling his cheeks heat up again as the words rolled off his tongue. "Now if you don't mind, I would like to go freshen up. China should be here soon to make sure France doesn't cause any trouble."

America grinned. "Okay. See ya later, England."

England waved back over his shoulder, still trying to will down his blush, "Yes, of course."

He had been waiting for this moment. The moment when England left the room and the door clicked closed behind him. Listening very closely to the muffled conversation out in the hall, China and England's voices echoing through the air ducts, France made his move.

Quietly, stealthily, and well, as eloquently as he could manage, France dropped down from the air vent in the ceiling directly onto America's bed.

"Fra-" America's yell was stifled as the Frenchman clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Hush now. I promise you, my dear friend, I am not here for unscrupulous reasons. I merely wish to talk."

America turned his head to look at France. Okay, so the guy was covered in dust and cobwebs, but otherwise, he did indeed look very serious.

Hoping he wasn't about to regret it, America nodded his consent. France removed his hand and smiled.

"Merci. I must admit, _Amérique_, you are a tricky one to get alone."

America crossed his arms, already dreading where this conversation was going. "Look France, I can totally kick your ass right now if you try anything. And England's probably down the hallway so..."

"Ah yes, England is very protective of you," France said, shifting on the bed so he could sit side by side with America. "It was kind of you to invite him on a date for all his hard work. Even if you are wasted on such a hideous excuse for a country, I am most pleased to hear that you two are finally getting somewhere."

"England isn't ugly! Jeez, you act like he's some..."

Blue eyes went wide as America's brain came to a screeching halt. It was like a mental traffic jam as the words hit him one by one.

_England. Date. Finally getting somewhere._

He felt his face heating up and cursed inwardly.

"It's not..." America's feeble retort died on his lips as France leveled him with a firm look.

"Not like you haven't been dreaming about him? Not like you haven't missed him? Hmm?" France sighed as America went brighter red. In some ways, he was still so naive.

Patting his arm, he smiled. "America, I know you quite well. We've been close for quite some time, no? I've seen your heartbroken actions, the way you tried to erase everything British from your culture. Now while I would generally encourage removing all traces of _that_ culture, you must admit, it was rather like a spurned lover burning old love letters."

"France, I…"

"Non. Let me talk, mon chéri." France turned towards America, placing his hands on his shoulders. Despite the smudges of dirt on his uniform, and the cobwebs still in his hair from his crawl through the vents, the Frenchman looked very serious. "Even if you still want to deny this, you feelings for him, you cannot deny that after this war is over your name will be so heavily tied to his. It is already happening in the news everywhere, how they talk of America coming to stand aside Great Britain in these dire times. And do not get me started on how close your bosses have become. Times are changing and neither of you can let your past matters stop it."

"But England is..."

France rolled his eyes and repressed a laugh. "Are you seriously going to tell me that England hates you, no, even dare tell me he doesn't _like_ you after he's spent the last few nights in your bed?"

America remained silent. He could see what France was saying, see the truth in it, and there just wasn't any retort. After a brief moment, he sighed. Leaning forward, he rested his head against France's shoulder.

"Damnit France, you still know me too well."

Smiling, France patted him on the back. "You know I hold you in high esteem, mon chéri, but sometimes you need big brother France's advice."

America laughed. "I'm not taking all your advice France. Especially not about England."

"What?" He leaned back, looking mock-scandalized. "Are you saying that my less-than-favorable view of _that Brit_ would mean I would steer you wrong?"

He leveled France a look and they both broke into a smile. France stood and offered his hand. "Good luck with him, America."

After a moment's hesitation, he reached out and shook it. "Thanks. I'll probably need it."

* * *

France had left almost as mysteriously and abruptly as he'd come. On hearing China's voice outside the door, he'd bidden America farewell and left via the window. America wasn't quite sure how France was planning on scaling down from the third story of the building, but after not hearing any screams or crashes, he supposed the other country was okay.

China entered moments later, obviously unaware of America's visitor moments before. He did find it odd that America was leaning by the window, and quickly rushed over to make sure he wasn't straining his ankle.

"Aiyah! The moment you got your cast off, it's been such a chore to make you rest, aru," the Asian nation reprimanded.

America cracked a smile and let China lead him back over to his bed. "I'm fine, China. Really."

Frowning, China bent down and gripped America's ankle. He winced, sucking in a sharp breath in pain.

"Fine enough to be released, aru. But that does not mean that your body has fully healed itself."

America sighed, running a hand up through his hair. "I'm just…" he huffed. "I'm tired of being a burden, ya know?"

Smiling, China placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "No one will begrudge you time to heal." America started to open his mouth in protest, but China cut him off. "Not even England, aru," he said firmly. "You can be released today, but you must still take things easy, aru."  
Nodding, America flopped back onto his bed. From his bed stand, the plush panda toppled forward onto his face. America chuckled. "Silly thing…"

China sat beside him with a smug smirk gracing his lips. "I take it my gift has done its job, aru."

America blinked, clutching the panda to his chest and staring up at China. "Huh?"

"America, it would take an ignorant man to not see that you and England are on much better terms now, aru. Doesn't that make you happier?"

Beady black eyes peered down at America from the plush that he was now holding up over his face. He frowned at the panda. If there was one thing he learned pretty quickly on setting up an alliance with China, it was that you really couldn't keep anything from the guy. And heck, hadn't that been all that China and now even France had been telling him this whole time? Just little comments about him having a good day and seeming in better spirits, in which England's name was always laced. Oh, and like America could forget. England being _his protector_.

"America, are you listening to me, aru?" China queried.

"Yeah," he murmured. "Hey China?"

"Yes?"

Sitting up a bit, he clutched the panda back to his chest and slouched a little. Meeting China's eyes he took a deep breath, exhaling it in such a way that his hair fluttered in the self-created breeze.

"Do you think England's happier now too?"

A question to answer a question, but he knew China was smart enough to catch the admission that England did make him happier hidden in his words. China just smiled in that gentle, reassuring way.

"Haven't you noticed, aru? While I might have just gifted you with that one panda of happiness, it honestly seems that both of you are the better for it, aru."

Blushing a bit at that, America rubbed the back of his neck. "Really?"

China stood, giving America a pat on the shoulder as he did so. "Trust me, aru. Now I'm going to get you some breakfast while you change into your clothes. Do you want rice congee again or what the hospital is serving, aru?"

America bit his lip, torn between two unfavorable choices. Forcing a smile, he replied. "Either one is fine. Thanks China!"  
As the Asian nation left the room, America sighed and looked to where his clean uniform was sitting out on a chair for him. Setting aside the plush panda, he patted it on the head.

"Well, let's hope your magic holds out a bit longer little guy."

* * *

Okay. This was it. He was going to be so totally awesome and heroic looking that England would be floored by how…awesome and heroic looking he was. His suit was pressed and he was ready to be released from the hospital and get back to work. When America heard footsteps coming down the hallway, he took a deep breath.

Shakily standing up, he tentatively put his weight on his weight on his injured ankle. He winced. But! He was a hero, and he would be perfectly a-okay without crutches. Heroes didn't need crutches!

A soft knock sounded on his door and America did his best to erase any sign of discomfort from his face. He wanted England to see him standing proud and tall; ready to get back to work.

At the thought of the Briton, France's and China's words came rushing back to him. America felt his chest tighten. He _wanted_ England to be proud of him, he knew that. Heck, he'd even had a dream just the night before in which England had called him "my brave hero" before he'd….

America went scarlet and his lips tingled with the memory of a kiss that had never happened in reality.

Putting forth his bravest voice, he called out as the visitor knocked again.

"Come in!"

He wouldn't admit that his heart sunk when it wasn't England that opened the door. Well, all right, he _would_ definitely admit that he wasn't excited to see _Russia_ standing there with an unreadable smile on his lips.

"Ah, I see you are doing better, yes?" Russia asked, managing to sound vaguely disappointed while still smiling sweetly.

America gritted his teeth and stood firm. "Russia, how…" _I hoped you wouldn't visit again._ "…good of you to come."

The two nations didn't move, silently smiling while unpleasant tension permeated the room. Finally, Russia broke it, turning to call out into the hallway. "You can bring it in now."

Three other nations filed in, the smallest shaking as he pushed a cart laden with a dinner tray. But America's eyes went straight to the brown-haired country on the left.

"Lithuania!" he called out, forgetting his ankle completely as he launched himself forward at his friend.

Thankfully, for both of them, Lithuania caught America before he went tumbling to the ground. Smiling widely, America hugged him. "I'm so glad to see you! You're doing awesomely, right? Anything I can do for you?"

Lithuania cast an uneasy glance over his shoulder at Russia before timidly returning America's smile. "I'm fine, Mister America."

"A-mer-i-ca," he enunciated, sounding more endeared than irritated. "That's no need to be so formal with me, remember? We're friends, right?"

Once again, Lithuania looked to Russia and he took a few steps away from him and his piercing gaze. "Of course, Mi- America."

He turned to the others with him, the taller giving him a nod before interjecting.

"Mister Russia," Estonia spoke up. "Perhaps we can get you that drink you wanted from the cafeteria downstairs."

Russia perked up at this, removing his heavy hand from where he'd been pushing down on Latvia's shoulder. "Ah. You think so, Estonia?"

Latvia meekly piped up. "I'm sure w-we could go a-ask. But you'd best come t-to make sure."

A slight frown tugged at his lips before Russia locked eyes with Lithuania and his eerie smile returned. "You will wait here for us, yes Lithuania?"

He gulped. "O-Of course."

Russia's smile brightened. "Good. It would so terrible if any of us were separated." Placing a hand back on Latvia's trembling shoulder and one on Estonia's shoulder, he edged them forward. "Come now. Let's get that drink, yes?"

As the door swung closed behind them, Lithuania sighed in relief. "I'm so sorry about this, America. You know how Mister Russia can be."

America's lips formed into a pout and gave the other nation firm look. "Hey. You're really okay right? I haven't heard much from you, so what's been up?"

Lithuania smiled, gently leading America over to the bed. As he sat, America joined him. "You really want to know?"

Grinning America, nodded. "Of course! England should be back soon, so…"

"Ah, England and you are…?" Lithuania asked hopefully. He remembered all too well how they'd danced around each other during his years with America.

"We're…" America paused, thinking. What was up with England and him? And unable to find a better way to put it, he decided that of all people, France had indeed said it best.

Fidgeting with his hands in his lap, and a blush staining his cheeks, America replied, "England and I are…finally getting somewhere, I think."


	4. In which England holds his own

**Note:** Thank you all for sticking with this even though it took painfully long for me to ever finish it. I hope you enjoy the finale!

* * *

**Happy Accidents: Chapter 4**

_[Chapter 4: In which England holds his own, Russian food isn't safe to eat, and America and England finally get somewhere]_

* * *

_So. Today's the day,_ England thought to himself as he smoothed down his crisply pressed suit. It seemed silly to him at first to want to look tip-top for this, but after running through his increasingly embarrassing reasons as to why he wanted to look nice, he finally gave in.

He wanted to look nice for America and had actually admitted as much to himself. Oh blast it all, what was the world coming to?

After finalizing the paperwork with the hospital staff so America could be released that afternoon, he made his way towards America's room. On almost reaching it, he paused. He could hear two distinct voices, one easily identified as America's and the other taking a moment to place. Trying to discern it, he pressed up against the door and listened in.

"You should be so thankful, America."

America chuckled nervously. "I am. Trust me; I was so damn glad that when I came over here he was still okay."

England pressed closer to the door, curious who they were talking about. I mean, it was clearly someone America cared deeply about and well…_well_, it couldn't be him, could it? He almost hated to hope.

The voice that England had pinpointed as Lithuania's responded, "I'm so glad to know you two are safe. It gives me hope for Poland, knowing you're both helping."

"We'll get Poland back to you, Lithuania! Hero's promise! Everything is going to be okay."

England smiled unbidden at that. Something about America's enthusiasm could be positively catching, even if it was a bit naïve. But the next words froze him to the spot.

"I mean…well, I honestly don't know what I would have done if England wasn't safe; so I can't imagine how you feel. But…hang in there! We'll save the day and you two can be back together again!"

He felt his breath catch, the words ringing in his ears. _I honestly don't know what I would have done if England wasn't safe_.

America had been worried about him; rather much so if his tone was any indication. Perhaps, just perhaps, England thought to himself, his plight wasn't as hopeless as it seemed.

"They're rather close, don't you think so? America and Lithuania," an eerily cheery voice said right in England's ear.

He jumped back, turning on his heel to face the unnerving smiling Russia who had snuck up behind him.

"Uh...hallo, Russia."

A slight frown tugged at the imposing country's lips. "I sometimes worry, wouldn't you? They are just...too close, yes?"

England shook off the icy feeling that had crept down his spine and stood at his fullest height. Clearing his throat, he replied, "They're just good friends. America...well, that idiot has a habit of making friends with anyone and everyone."

"But very close friends, yes?" Russia remarked, soft smile on his face and eyes piercing.

"Yes. Perhaps they are," England snapped.

The whole situation was beginning to unnerve him, a combination of Russia's strange possessive nature over of Lithuania and the fact that it was raising England's own hackles over America's feelings towards him.

_I cannot go barging in there like a fool. That's my problem with America. Always trying to keep him to myself until he..._

A chill ran through England, this time not due to anything on Russia's part.

With a proper and clipped tone, he spoke, "If you are so concerned, then go on in."

Russia turned to glance down the hallway. "Estonia, Latvia. We are going in now, yes?"

The quick rush of footsteps sounded, and the two came up to stand at the ready. Russia placed his hand on the doorknob and with a worrisome smile remarked to England.

"I'm sorry to trouble you with my uncertainties, England. It's just, Lithuania is such a wonderful cook and he's never argumentative. I have reason for concern, you see?"

England inhaled sharply at the blatant implication. _Wonderful cook. Never argumentative. Very close friends_. He closed his eyes and the earlier words crept back. The feeling of America's hand in his as they'd lain together in the cramped hospital bed the night before. He was tired of this. As a prideful British man, this simply had to stop.

He took the doorknob from Russia's hand and pushed the door open. With a smug smirk, he retorted, "Yes, I do believe _you_ have reason for concern."

Lithuania and America started as the door swung open, but England held his ground. Marching right over, he offered Lithuania a hand.

"It's good to see you, Lithuania. Doing all right?"

He nodded, eyes darting over England's shoulder to where Russia and the others stood. "I'm…getting by. America and I were just talking about you."

"J-Just wondering where you were!" The younger nation cut in, his cheeks pinking. He quickly stood up and did his best to hide the flicker of pain that crossed his face. "You got the paperwork done, right?"

England took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, of course." A knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips and he willed it down. _Oh I heard you talking about me all right, America. Worried for my safety, was it?_

"Ah, you will be checking out soon then?" Russia interjected.

The door flung open then, France entering with a flourish with China, looking bedraggled, following behind him.

"Aiyah! France, you are not to enter here!"

"But China, America is being released today! The lovely nurse at front just told me a strange looking man with hideous eyebrows finalized the paperwork." England huffed, and France continued. "So, I am here to wish America well."

America just chuckled. Well, that answered Russia's query all right. "Yeah, looks like it, Russia. You got a problem with that?" He crossed his arms defiantly, and beside him, England took a step closer. Just on the off chance that France tried something outlandish (this was entirely possible, it was that bloody frog, after all), and China couldn't hinder him in time.

Russia smiled. "I just brought a dish for you to eat. I hope you have time to enjoy it before you go."

Taking a deep breath, America crossed the room to the dinner cart that was flanked by Estonia and Latvia. "This it?"

Nodding, Russia said. "Latvia, please present our dish."

Shaking, the shorter country lifted off the lid on the tray to reveal a gelatinous mass with chunks of meat inside. America bit back a retort, clearly trying to remind himself that they were allies and he had to at least _try_ and get along.

"Uh…" He picked up the fork and took a very small bite. "What is it?"

"Kholodets," Russia replied with a smile.

"Which is?" He mumbled around his chewing.

Russia's smirked. "Jellied pigs feet."

America grimaced, clearly trying his hardest not to spit out the single bite he'd taken. With a gulp, he managed to swallow it. "You know, I think I'm kinda full right now. Might save it for later."

Of course, at that very moment, America's stomach growled in hunger. Russia raised an eyebrow. "Ah, is that so?"

"It's just that…" America turned to England, meeting his eyes for just a moment. He was looking for help out of this mess and by George, England was going to give it.

"America, there's no reason to lie to them," the Briton said, clearing his throat and garnering the attention of all in the room. "You see, it's just that…I'd made a promise to take America out for lunch today once I finished up the release paperwork with the hospital. Don't get me wrong, it's not anything special that you all need to tag along for. It's just he's been whining about a lack of burgers here and well…I…"

England felt all the eyes focused on him and his face heated up. He'd dug himself quite the lovely hole, hadn't he?

"England's right," America piped in. Last minute hero, as always. "It's a lunch date for us, so…"

At that, France started chuckling and threw his arm around China. "Aha, I see then. Why did you two not tell us you had private plans? Tsk tsk. Making us all look so impolite by interrupting your time together. Come along, China. Perhaps we can dine together, oui?"

China frowned, delicately prying off France's arm from around him and stepping towards the door. "I ate a late breakfast, aru."

"Ah, that is life." France shrugged. "I must go and whisk one of the lovely lady nurses off then it seems. America, and as much as it pains to me to say, even you England. Good luck."

And with a wave of his hand, he left the room. China turned to the two, who had both commenced blushing various shades of pink, and wished them farewell. "Do not forget the gifts that have been bestowed on you, aru."

America blinked, then with a grin, replied, "The panda's coming with me, China. Thanks!"

Russia took the hint finally, covering up his dish and turning to his companions. "Estonia, Latvia, I think I shall have this myself for lunch then. In the cafeteria, yes?"

"O-Of course!" Latvia stuttered, starting to push the cart past Russia towards the door. Estonia followed.

"Lithuania, they did not have the vodka I wanted. You can run to the store and buy some for me, yes?"

Lithuania stood immediately and was only hindered in his quick movement by America grasping his wrist.

"Hey, I gotta say goodbye first."

He paused warily at that, but before Lithuania could check to see how chilling Russia's current expression was, America had pulled him into a hug.

"We'll take care of everything. I promise, okay?"

Lithuania smiled, giving his friend a pat on the back before drawing back. "Thank you, Mister America."

"You take care of yourself, all right?"

"You too, America. England. Take care." With these last well-wishes, Lithuania rushed out the door to fetch Russia his drink.

Russia just cleared his throat, as if to remind them that he was indeed still present. Turning to America, he smiled unnervingly wider. "I guess I will be seeing you at the meeting on Monday then, yes? Unless something else unpleasant befalls you."

"Nothing will," America replied firmly.

The northern country's smile tightened. "Good day, England. America."

"Good afternoon," England replied cordially, thankful when Russia finally left. He exhaled in relief. "Well, that was a right mess."

"Yeah," America replied, closing the distance between them to stand at England's side. "So uh…are you really taking me out for food?"

England started at not only the sudden question, but at America being only inches away. "I uh...well, I suppose…if you aren't opposed to…to…a…"

Ducking his head and peering up through his bangs, America finished, "A…lunch date?"

Flushing, England averted his eyes. "That choice of wording was yours, you git."

"Oh. Er…" America rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He started to shift from foot to foot, but winced as a small dart of pain shot up his leg. "Iwouldn'tmind, youknow."

"What?"

He whirled towards America at that, almost colliding with him. The two exchanged an awkward smile and a nervous chuckle.

"I do like burgers more than the food here, you know? And…you're paying right?"

England felt his chest tighten up. Sure, it was utterly inane and roundabout, but it was painfully clear that America was agreeing to a 'date' with him. And Christ, he wasn't going to botch this up!

"My wallet's been a bit tight lately, but I suppose if it's just burgers and chips…"

America's smile started to widen, just a little. "I could always pay for you."

"You would?" He asked, hesitantly meeting America's gaze. He definitely looked genuine about it.

"I could add it to your war debt," the younger country taunted. But that was just it. England could see perfectly through the façade. They were just words, silly, ridiculous, wonderful words glossing over the fact that they were here. Alone in a room together. Asking each other out on a date.

"No, I must insist. A gentleman keeps his word and I told the others it was my treat."

America laughed. He carefully stepped around the bed to snatch up his bag, tucking his stuffed panda in the top and slinging it over his shoulder.

"That would be…" He paused, holding out his arm. England took the hint and with a roll of his eyes, he linked his arm through America's. "Awesome."

* * *

He had insisted that he did not need crutches. Heroes, he emphasized, did not need crutches. England scoffed at this, but he wasn't about to argue with America about it and ruin their…well. Their date. His heart did a little flip-flop at that and he relented.

And so, that is how they found themselves strolling to the restaurant with America leaning up against his side.

At first he'd tried to act as if nothing was bothering him, but England finally had enough and yanked him over against him.

"Oh come now, you don't have to be a hero every bloody moment of your life. You _can_ ask for a shoulder to lean on."

America blinked at first, but after a moment, a tenative smile surfaced on his face and he squeezed England around the shoulders. "Okay." He laughed a bit to himself, probably out of nerves. "I guess that's you then, huh?"

England blushed, but well, he was, wasn't he? _Oh blast it all, this is just getting right silly. Might as well go ahead and finish it off._

He took a deep breath and looked to his right where America was hobbling along beside him. "I do rather _like_ you, you know?"

America's eyes went wide and England felt his chest clench up a moment before the smile returned, brilliant and bright, on the younger nation's face.

"R-Really?"

England nodded, not trusting himself with words at the moment. America's grin, if possible, widened even more so as he reached down and encircled England's waist in his arms. "Me too!"

He started to lift the other country up, but England protested. Spluttering and shoving feebly, he pushed at his arms.

"America! You imbecile, not with your ankle!"

Reluctantly, America stopped. But after giving England a quick squeeze around the middle, he stepped back and leaned his forehead down against England's.

"Okay, but I get to do it when I feel better then. Promise?"

England blushed, chuckling a bit to himself at America's persistence in lifting him into a hug. "A-All right."

America cheered at that, spinning around where he stood before hugging England tightly against his chest. "Today is so, _so_ awesome!"

Unable to resist, England added, "And you're getting burgers for lunch."

He grinned back. "Getting awesomer by the moment then!"

Not wanting to push his luck, England decided this was quite enough for today. He was going on a date. With America. Who rather _liked_ him. It was a bloody (dare he think it?) awesome day.

Holding his hand out tentatively, he spoke up, feeling just a little more confidence than he did before. "Come now, let's get you those burgers then."

America kept grinning, clutching England's hand and intertwining their fingers. Leaning his head over onto the shorter nation's head, he murmured, "England…?"

"Y-Yes?"

With a sudden and swift motion, he turned and pecked a quick kiss to England's cheek. They both flushed bright red. He coughed and went back to leaning on him as if nothing had happened. England allowed himself a small smile.

"Is that for the liking you or for buying you burgers?" He teased.

America laughed, reaching up to ruffle England's hair. "Both."

"Thought so."

They both laughed at that, their fingers lacing back together as they walked. On America's back, his bag bounced with each step; a small, plush, panda peering out the top with a stitched smile on its face.

-----------------------  
THE END.


End file.
